Tease
by RazzyLemonade
Summary: ReaderXDenmark. Rated M for mature. Smutty goodness. Just a little one-shot. Please enjoy


If he didn't want you, fine. You didn't want him either. You'd show him. That stupid Dane would see that you were _not _a child. Vengeful satisfaction sizzled in your veins as you checked your appearance in the full length mirror on your closet door. The bow tied at the base of your neck to hold up the halter top was hidden beneath your loose (y/c) curls. Dark wash jeans hugged your hips and exposed a slim section of your flat tummy beneath your shimmering chemise. The (y/c) color of your irises was intensified by the thin dark liner and frame of mascara fortified lashes.

You looked totally hot.

You were usually so tame; both in appearance and behavior. Perhaps that's why he hadn't wanted you? A soft spoken girl with her hair always neatly pinned back. Her clothes always modest and proper, not a stitch of makeup on her face. You tried to be kind and polite to everyone, no matter the circumstance.

You lived your life as the epitome of the stereotypical 'good girl.'

Growling at the thought, you adjusted the black, slinky, silk top to help the illusion of larger breasts it was creating. Lord knew you needed all the help you could get in that area. You'd had to put back a B-cup bra the other day because it was too loose. How sad was that? Eyeing the golden colored designs that bloomed across the fabric on your torso, you pulled your leather jacket into place and thought about why you were going through with this.

It was because of Denmark, obviously. Somehow or another-you still weren't terribly sure-you'd become a tenant of his upon arriving in this country as a new student. The loud, obnoxious, drunken man had inexplicably grown on you while time passed and you shared common areas; as had his odd set of friends. Personified countries, they'd called themselves. The Nordics. It hadn't really mattered to you, which had surprised them to say the least. The only relevant concern you'd had was how they managed to appear…normal. Abnormally attractive, but normal enough. Berwald (Sweden), Tino (Finland), Lukas (Norway), and Emil (Iceland) were just so human looking. As was Mathias.

In the year you'd been renting a portion of his home, you'd come to love the idiot. You'd also, it would seem mistakenly, thought he'd shared a romantic interest in you. He was always chasing men away from you with glares and threatening words. Asking you to neglect your studies and spend time with him. Always sure not to leave you alone in a room with any man. Not even Lukas, who seemed as regular a staple in Denmark's home as you were.

However, in a session of laughing and listening to him drunkenly recall wild stories; you'd offered yourself to him and he'd denied you. Saying something about alleged: 'Responsibility for you. You were just a kid.'

_Hmph_. You'd show him. 'Just a kid' indeed...

Your heels clicked on the wooden stairs as you headed down and checked through your bag for cell phone, wallet, and keys. As you drew nearer the bottom the sound began to echo because the three men in the living room had paused their conversation and glanced up to watch you finish your trip to the landing. You slipped your bag back into place, the heavy, shocked silence thickening the air all that you'd dreamed it would be and more. Forcing your actions to be calm and casual, you pulled your long hair over one shoulder and looked into the sitting room to find three pairs of eyes openly staring. Norway's dull, almost bland, navy colored stare and Denmark's lighter sky colored gaze. Iceland looked awkwardly away when you met his violet eyes with your own. This had you grinning victoriously.

"Hi guys," you drawled; walking to the front door and giving them a little wave. "Bye guys."

"Where're you going?" Denmark called uneasily; much the way you'd hoped he would.

You were already half out the door when he asked, so you didn't bother hiding the look of utter smugness on your features. Nor did you hide it from your voice…but that was pretty intentional. "On a date," you swung the door shut and refrained from giddily skipping the rest of the way to your car.

As you drove to the place you and your date had selected, a shawl of guilt began to smother you. Not guilt about potentially upsetting Mathias…no…that was the whole purpose of this endeavor. You were feeling guilty for using the man you were on your way to meet.

Vindictive seemed like an understatement for all of the actions you'd perpetrated this evening.

You weren't even remotely interested in this guy; though he was the only man who'd asked you out multiple times despite Denmark's intimidation. He'd made you laugh on occasion and you shared many classes with him at school. He was physically attractive enough you supposed. He just wasn't Denmark.

You sighed loudly as you found a parking place in front of the establishment and walked in. _Oh, hell._ You thought. _What difference does it make? It's __**one**__ date. That's not promising him anything but a single evening of my company and attention. _

So that's what you did. You drank with him and laughed at his poor jokes and complimented him. You worked hard at being a good, attentive date and giving this guy a nice evening. He wasn't _terrible_ to hang out with either…though he mentioned that he wished you hadn't worn makeup…..which shocked you a bit.

At least he was honest.

By the end of the night, you returned the favor of honesty. You felt completely foolish after objectively looking at the situation. You'd felt scorned so, rather than taking Mathias' rejection with a grain of salt and moving on with your life, you'd sold out everything about yourself for an entire night to try and make him jealous. This whole fiasco had been stupid, not to mention _childish_.

You thanked your date for a good time while he walked you to your car, but said that you'd rather not see him again. He immediately sent you a sad, knowing smile and said, "It's the blonde idiot…huh? The noisy one who's always glaring over your shoulder?"

You blinked guiltily at him, curbing the urge to duck into your car, speed home and curl up under your covers; not emerging for days. Attempting to hide your humiliation from this guy as well as the rest of civilization.

"Don't worry about it," your date said; reaching over and patting your shoulder. "But I hope whatever you're trying to achieve works." He shook his head dejectedly, "Lucky bastard."

You offered an awkward laugh and a sad smile of your own before getting in your car and driving home. Feeling more like a kid than ever as you sulked up the front porch steps; you located your key and slid it quietly into the lock. It was late, you knew. You'd spent longer talking with your date than you realized. All of the lights in the home were off and it was deathly quiet as you pressed the door open slowly. A floorboard creaked alarmingly as you stepped inside and attempted to shut the door with no further sound. You winced as the latch clicked loudly, blatantly disobeying your intention of silence.

You slid your coat off and put it on an empty hanger. As you stretched up to hang your jacket in the coat closet, the living room lamp switched on. You froze and swore silently. You didn't have it in you to face him now that your brazen contempt had fizzled beneath your embarrassment.

Glaring at your turned figure was Denmark; who took in the fact that he could see nearly all the porcelain skin of your back. Your protruding shoulder blades and the thin, elegant dip of your backbone leading down to the dimples at the small of your back. That wisp of silk you were wearing as a _"shirt"_ did nothing to conceal any part of you from any eyes that happened to look.

You had successfully fostered envy in Mathias. Unfortunately for you, that was a rather foolish thing to have done to the former Viking.

"It's nearly one in the morning…" he all but snarled.

"Oh…is it?" you asked naively; turning lightly and smiling your good girl smile. Sadly…it came across fake with the current state of your appearance.

He replied with a grouchy and unimpressed, "Yes." He rose to his feet and menacingly prowled through the living room to where you stood. He stopped with no discernable distance between the two of you. If you'd been his height, your noses would've touched. Instead, you blinked at his chest in an almost befuddled state of shock as the heavy scent of alcohol rolled off of him. "Did you plan on making me wait till the sun rose to see that you got home safely?" the questions were harsh and spit down at you as insults. "Or did you not intend to come home at all?"

Childish and guilty as you may have felt a moment ago, he'd really just stepped on an emotional landmine. You should never ask a woman something like that. Really. "Excuse me?!" you snapped, defiantly looking up to meet his own scowl. "Just how the hell is that business of yours?"

"How the hell is that not business of mine?!" he insisted with absolutely no founding.

This situation is _not _what you'd wanted to create.

Frustration with your own stupidity as well as with Denmark's sudden and drunken anger caused you to lose focus of your words. "_This_ interrogation from the man who doesn't even want me?" the cynical sentence had slipped out in the heat of the moment and you immediately regretted it. No girl liked to say she wasn't wanted. Especially to someone that she really wanted. Your face was flushed with shame more than anger as you turned to slam the door to the coat closet; giving Mathias your back and taking your eye contact to regroup your thoughts.

That was another mistake.

The next thing you knew, you were shoved face first against the door you'd just closed. The Dane was pressing his weight into your back; causing you to be painfully trapped between he and the hardwood surface. You squirmed furiously, spitting a few choice insults behind your shoulder.

Silencing your struggle and making your breath hitch, Mathias leaned down and growled in your ear. "Not bending you over the kitchen counter and taking you the second you put forward was _a rare_ act of self control and consideration for your young self, (y/n). You were to be grateful to me for showing restraint on behalf of your wellbeing. But no. Instead you flaunt around in _this_?" he lessened the force with which he was crushing you against the door. You played right into his trap and pushed away from the wooden surface, allowing him to easily slide a hand into the nonexistent back of your loose shirt and force you back against the door with a casual lean of his much larger body. The hot palm of his hand against the lower left side of your rib cage rose goose-bumps along your flesh. "Talk about wearing it for another man…_in front_ of me? How is that a way to thank someone?"

"I wasn't thanking you, _dumbass_!" you replied rather coarsely, trying to elbow him. The admission of wanting you had fallen of deaf ears. You were far too busy being outraged by his current actions. "Get _off_ me!"

"Oh….it's far too late for that, (y/n)." He ground his hips into yours and you felt the desire that you hadn't paid enough attention to hear. You stilled with a gasp and blushed bright pink.

"W-what do you mean?" you asked weakly; voice suddenly failing you. Your breath was coming in increasingly short gasps due to the size of the body weighing against you, the unforgiving material of the door, and the sudden heat in your veins.

He wasn't really implying that the two of you….? Were you going to let him…? Even after he was just being such an ass did you still…..?

You couldn't even finish the thought of being with him. It just seemed so farfetched.

"I mean," he rumbled. "That I am going to teach you to be grateful."

With that said; Denmark stepped away from you and removed his hand from within your shirt. The absence of his palm caused a cold chill to haunt the skin where his had been. You heaved in a large breath as that sensation breezed over you.

Denmark tossed you up over his shoulder before you could muster a word of protest with that breath he'd just heard you suck in. Surprising him, you remained still and silent as Denmark took the steps two at a time and hauled you all the way down the hall and into his bedroom.

You were yet to find your voice. You weren't even really sure if you wanted to right now. There was a high probability that you'd say something to compromise the situation; like: What the fuck is happening here? Or…

"You'll teach me to be _what_?" you demanded in a challenging manner; relocating the previous resentment he'd stirred. You crossed your arms irritably the moment Mathias set you on your feet and upon seeing you, he begun grinning devilishly down at the pout of your stance and features.

"To be grateful for me." He replied arrogantly. Then, in a tone low and sultry enough to make your knees week; he smirked, "Du vil _bede_ for mig, før jeg er færdig med dig1."

A scoff and ego crushing retort rose in the back of your throat, but they were cut off by the sudden and intense kiss of Denmark. He claimed your lips in an all consuming, dominating fashion that killed your train of livid thought and had you focused on nothing more than trying to return his kiss in kind. He tasted of strong, stinging alcohol and man. A taste you found yourself enjoying.

Nobody had ever kissed you that way. Nobody.

His rough hands wondered unabashedly while yours softly explored the fit torso you so admired. It was far too soon that you broke apart for air but, while you'd been expecting a few seconds of break from the tension creating actions the two of you had been committing; Denmark did not. In a quick and fluid motion that you hadn't really followed, he had not only his own, but your sorry excuse of a shirt off and you lying back on his bed.

Moving to modestly cover your exposed chest, Mathias pushed your hands out of the way and beat you to it. His calloused palm enveloped your breast as he rested his heavy body on top of you. The groan of pleasure that escaped your mouth and he began kneading your bosom was swallowed in another of his kisses. You traced your fingers up and down his sides and felt his bare skin both under your fingertips and against your own exposed flesh. It was that delicious sensation of friction that had your need for more of him heatedly pooling between your thighs. Your frustration growing as the touching progressed too slowly, you arched your back and shifted beneath him so that his own stiff need rubbed the inside of your thigh.

He hissed at the sudden contact before lowly chuckling, "Patients, woman."

Denmark spoke of patients, but just as he finished the words his fingers began to skillfully unbutton your jeans. You worked clumsily at his belt buckle, but he pushed your hands away once again as he tugged your pants off. Timidity buzzed in the back of your mind. The sudden shyness roused a darker blush to your cheeks and caused you to both look away from him and halfheartedly cover your exposed chest with a nervous gulp. What if you weren't…..you weren't…..

You were not terribly sure what you were afraid he'd think. But it was bad. Perhaps that you wouldn't be desirable in comparison to others he'd been with? Maybe that you just were too inexperienced compared to him?

Mathias smirked at your self conscious actions, knowing before this had started that he'd see some. You were still quite young after all. He decided to reassure you a bit by dropping a quick kiss to your lips; then he wasted no more time before removing your panties and rubbing his fingers against your slick core. His strokes were calm and measured, but you were going wild none the less. Bubbles of tension slowly worked their way to a boil in the lower half of your tummy as you wriggled and moaned beneath his touch. Leaving you panting on the verge of climax, much to your discontent, he pulled away. You whined your disappointment as his contact left you and the heat of your pleasure cooled.

"Tell me how badly you want me," he demanded haughtily.

You glared, your mounted frustration far passing any apprehension you may have experienced. Despairingly you replied, "It's unkind to tease in such a way." The smile on his face was positively sinful as he kissed you again and seemed to start all over from the beginning.

Not really understanding what he was doing back in the same position he'd started, you played along for a bit. Growing restless with the calm actions of contained kissing and soft touches, you tugged a bit at the hair on the back of his head. He moved away from your lips to frown at you about the pulling; but you didn't pay attention. Instead, you sat slightly up to press your lips to his chin, then his cheek, then a series of sweet brushes along his jaw line, savoring the prickle of his five o'clock shadow against your smooth, full lips. Then you wandered down his neck, drifting to the side and pressing your kisses into his shoulder as you snuggled against the crook of his neck and ran your fingers down his back. You hadn't really intended your actions to be quiet so tender…but that was the way you felt for him…..deep down. It was nice to express it in some way, if not vocally.

What you'd just done had felt so good, Mathias decided not to complain about the earlier hair pulling.

As an alternative, he pushed you back down on the mattress and returned your sweet kisses in a bit more of a gruff fashion. First your little chin, then your flushed cheeks (hot to the touch), the base of your jaw, and finally; your deliciously elegant neck. He, however, did not drift to the side.

Denmark delighted in the bouquet of taste on your skin and the soft sounds escaping your throat while he nibbled at your choler bone. The salty tang of the sweat he'd caused mingled with the cool, smooth texture of you as he slid down past your chest; lingering momentarily to give a playful nip at the underside of your little breast. You jumped and gave a loud squeak with the fleeting contact of his teeth, digging your fingernails into his shoulders. He chuckled contentedly before moving on.

Denmark settled the side of his face briefly against the lower half of your left ribcage, his blonde mane tickling the tender place he'd just bitten. It was the same place he'd first pressed his palm to you. Suddenly, you understood it was because Denmark had been feeling, and was now listening, to your heartbeat hammer because of his touch.

Occupied by the somewhat foreign idea that this action was one of tenderness on Mathias' part, you didn't comprehend that he'd made his way all the way down the supple flesh of your tummy. You still didn't really feel that he was nuzzling the crests of your hips or notice that he was now mostly kneeling on the mattress rather that lying on you. What drew your attention and a sharp gasp from your lungs was when he pressed a kiss to the inside of your right thigh, just above your knee, and slid two of his fingers inside of you. Your body was automatically pushing itself up and away from the sudden intrusion. Denmark responded by hooking a hand behind your knee and tugging you into the same position flat on your back.

Again, he continued with slow and precise movements until you were quivering with the need to finish. In and out. In and out. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your breath was ragged with moans of anticipation. Again, he suddenly pulled all of his warmth and touch completely away from you; leaving twice the burning tension of before, but the promise of relief completely frozen.

"_What_?" you lamented; desperation clear in your eyes and voice as you imploring searched the ornery and self-assured face of the Dane.

"Tell me how badly you want me." Denmark repeated the confident command.

You gave an agitated groan and flopped your head back against his bed. There was no way he could be serious. Couldn't he already tell? Why did he have to insist you say something so embarrassing aloud? Once more, you'd wrapped yourself in your own frustrated thoughts so thoroughly that you missed the intentions of your partner.

Mathias saw that your mind wasn't on him…where he was quite sure it should've been. Seeing this left him feeling…miffed. He was miffed. Miffed with your disregard. This broke the fragile patients he'd been so carefully nursing all night. So carefully holding against both the alcohol in his system and the desire that had been running through him since you'd mentioned sleeping together. He decided not to be patient anymore. You were going to say exactly what he wanted to hear, dammit.

Promptly. So he could just get down to business.

You were too busy pouting to notice that Denmark had slipped off the bed and snaked a hand around each of your ankles. You had literally no time to prepare for the next flurry of forward action. After the fist sharp tug, "Ouch!" escaped you throat.

A growl was his response as he continued to roughly position you to his liking. You didn't argue, shocked by the sudden violence in his movements. Soon your legs were hanging off the side of his bed and his mouth was doing all sorts of naughty things between them. These touches were not calm, but wild. The grip he had on either of your legs was excruciatingly tight. Mewling and writhing in both intense pleasure and pain; you felt the familiar sore of new bruises on the outside of your thighs and the bubbling ache of impending release build inside of you. Mathias stopped, yet again before you finished, and sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your inner left thigh. You made a loud sound of pain, though he hadn't broken skin.

"Tell me how badly you want me," the words were not a playful demand; but a menacing order.

Realizing that this was clearly a form of torture to get what he wanted, you were prepared to submit. You weren't given much of a chance to respond. After just one shuddering breath while trying to think of what to say, he began again. You panted and wriggled and forced out bits and pieces of what you thought Denmark wanted to hear, but it didn't seem to do it for him.

"Tell me-" he began; in the process of ignoring your pleas for completion.

"Please, Mathias! _Please_! I want you," you cried; confused and dying to quell whatever had replaced his earlier tenderness. You were also rather wary of another bite. You didn't particularly care for those. "I want you so badly I can't think. So badly I can't even _breath_! Please…"

His laugh was a low rumble of smug victory. Almost sighing as he laid on top of you, you assisted him in shedding his pants and positioning himself at your entrance. He saw the turmoil and confusion he'd caused within you reflected in your newly cautious and ever frustrated (y/c) eyes. Guilt didn't touch him, though he did give you another of the lingering kisses you seemed to enjoy so much.

He'd warned you, hadn't he? Why should he feel bad?

"Say it again." He said against your lips, "Tell me again…"

You complied _immediately_. "Please Denny," you used a sweet name with your plea and nuzzled into his neck again. "Please?"

With one last smug grin, he roughly thrust inside of you and kept a quick and vigorous pace until you-_finally_—were permitted to fall into the blissful contractions of sweet, _sweet _relief as the compounded bubbles of tension in your belly burst. Mathias was sure you'd scratch him. Maybe return a well deserved bite. At the very least pull his hair again for having teased you so…but you didn't.

All you wanted as the two of you climaxed together was another of his kisses.

1 "You'll _beg_ for me before I'm finished with you."


End file.
